


Half a Heart, United

by headfirstfrhalos



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Aromantic, Asexual Relationship, Gen, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Blood, Queerplatonic Relationships, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tattoos, Trope Subversion/Inversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 02:57:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14251581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headfirstfrhalos/pseuds/headfirstfrhalos
Summary: In a world where the name of your soulmate would appear over your heat when you turned eighteen, Josh would have no way to expect that something was going to go wrong until it did.





	Half a Heart, United

Josh had no way to expect that something was going to go wrong until it did. He stayed up at midnight, standing shirtless in front of his mirror as he counted off the last seconds of his seventeen years. He wanted to clutch at his chest, right under his collarbone and over his pectoral where the name was due to appear. Now, now he would finally have some idea of who his other half would be.

He counted it off on his watch. Five... Four... Three... Two... One...

And nothing appeared.

* * *

 

There was no way to keep it a secret. His siblings crowded around him the moment he came downstairs. He was the oldest, he was always the first to experience something new and he always had wisdom to share. This time, though, he had nothing. He bit the inside of his cheek and pulled down the collar of his shirt to show the blank skin, rubbed red from where he had spent the whole night worrying at it, as if it were a lottery ticket he could scratch at until a name appeared. It didn't.

He remembered how their faces fell. The same with his friends. There were consoling pats on the shoulders and strangers approaching him and asking to see his blank chest. What a difference one day made; yesterday's, his blank skin hadn't been such a big deal. All of a sudden, he was a freak. Heartless, somehow incomplete, and less human for it.

He didn't know what it meant for him, for his future. The health class hadn't even mentioned what happened to people who never had the name of their soulmate appear on their skin. He didn't know how many other people were like him. Maybe he was the only one. His mother promised him that he would be okay, that he would find love, that these things happened for greater reasons, but Josh just felt unlucky.

* * *

 

Names bloomed on his friends' skin as the seasons passed. Josh didn't like to take off his shirt. They tried not to talk about it in front of him. He was grateful for that, at least.

He didn't date. He knew better than that. If he did, they'd leave him when they did find their soulmate, and if they stayed, he'd be leaving someone in the world alone. It wouldn't be fair for him to come in between something so perfect, so natural, so human. He wasn't supposed to have anyone, and a part of him was realizing that maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to have anyone anyway.

He didn't go to college, but he had friends who did. Friends who went to colleco, and had a good taste in music. He found himself stalled on the side of the road because he couldn't trust himself to drive with this many tears in his eyes, but he still didn't take out the CD he had been given.

He had to go to one of their shows.

* * *

 

The singer was skinny and jumped around like a grasshopper and shook like a newborn faun. Josh found himself battered against dozens upon dozens of other overheated bodies, and it was good. The attention wasn't on him. It was all on this man who leapt off his piano and nearly rolled his ankle but kept singing anyway. Josh admired that. Josh wanted to be that. He wanted more of this music.

He would learn his name later-- Tyler. Tyler Joseph. Despite the August heat and the energy of his performances, he never, never took his shirt off.

* * *

 

Tyler was kind. Tyler was insightful. Tyler aligned with the kind of person Josh was. It was good, and it took no time for him to ask Josh to replace Chris when he could no longer drum. It took even less time for Josh to say yes.

They traveled together, crammed into the back of a van with a mattress laid in the hold. Tyler didn't take his shirt off, and neither did Josh. Maybe Tyler had the name of a man on him and he didn't want anyone to know. Maybe he had Josh's name there and he dididn want him to know. Something like that happened to Pete, though he wasn't as bothered. But Josh understood the fear, and he would give Tyler time. (The idea that Tyler's soulmate was him, but not vice versa, scared him.)

There were shows. There were rehearsals, just the two of them, and Josh enjoyed those times even more than standing in front of a small but rabid crowd because he had Tyler all to himself. He didn't know what that greedy feeling was, but he knew it was there. They'd talk and joke and laugh and the experience was ruined because the whole time, Josh could think of nothing else but the fact that he wanted _more_ of it, forever.

* * *

 

It took them a long time to finally get around to hugging. Josh wasn't used to it, and it seemed like Tyler was the same way. Josh hadn't dated anyone in nearly five years.

It took them even longer to kiss, just once, the lightest on the lips because the moment felt appropriate and they just wanted to see what it was like. Josh didn't like it, and it seemed like Tyler was the same way. They agreed to not do it again. Josh wasn't sure if this meant he was straight. He didn't want to kiss a girl to test it out, though. So what was Tyler? Did he like other men, but just didn't like Josh? The thought hurt him, even if he didn't _want_ him. It was confusing and made his insides feel like taffy being stretched on a hook.

It took them the longest time to take their shirts off. This was after they had been signed. This was after they had success. Josh couldn't believe it took so long, but at the same time, he did. Because fame could come and go, but a missing soulmate wouldn't.

They both laughed until they cried when they saw each other's bare chests.

* * *

 

They were perfect for each other. Neither of them had anything. Josh could have him-- there was no divine law saying he _couldn't_.

They could take off their shirts now. It didn't matter anymore, Josh wasn't alone. It was always, always brought up during every interview-- _how lucky is it that two nameless people just so happened to form a band together? Did you know that less than one percent of the population is nameless? Is that why you don't make love songs?_

They answer the questions, sometimes serious, usually not. They'll nuzzle each other, blow kisses, share food, and Josh can't tell if they're joking or not when they say that they don't need a magical name to tell them who they cared about the most. It seemed pretty real.

* * *

 

It was Tyler's idea, because of course it was. They already had matching tattoos. Tyler's was on his bicep, Josh's was right behind his ear. But Tyler was possessive, and Josh was jealous right back, so it wasn't an issue of _if_ , it was a matter of _where_ and _when_.

Josh had gotten tattoos before. So had Tyler. Maybe Tyler was braver than him-- he had boxy shapes on each of his pectorals, and he had to take off his shirt and reveal his chest to do so. Josh had simply stuck to a colorful sleeve that barely reached his shoulder. Maybe if he saved up enough money, he could get another, and the connect the two with a chest piece that could hide his shame and paint him a million different colors instead.

There were tattoos you could get to look like you had a name, or pretty, meaningless designs that would simply cover up the blank space. They were available in different fonts and colors on the prefab wall of his tattoo parlor, but something told Josh that very few people even dared get one and expose themselves. He knew he didn't.

Tyler had proposed the chest, right above the heart where the names were supposed to appear, but Josh said no. He didn't want to lie anymore. He didn't want to pretend that he had a name. Because he didn't. He had realized that that was what made Tyler even more special-- he didn't need a magical inscription to tell him that they were made for each other.

* * *

 

They settled on the upper thigh. It was next to a major artery, which was close enough to the heart for some roundabout symbolism, and definitely not on the chest so that people would _kno_ w. They'd know that it was different, both in the placement and the nature of their togetherness. To top it off, they'd get them on stage, jn front of thousands and thousands of people. To really drive the point home, Tyler had said, and Josh agreed. 

The names usually appeared in perfect script that matched the handwriting of no person. But Josh didn't want perfection, and neither did Tyler. They were going to do this by hand, they were going to personally etch their identities into each other. That was a privilege no one else got. It was far more personal this way.

Josh's hands shook as he held the vibrating tattoo gun. He knew how they worked, he had practiced on fruit, but he was about to place it on Tyler's body. He gripped the top of his thigh with his left hand to steady his soft flesh and held the needle with the other, looking up at Tyler only once before starting the curve of the 'j'.

He still remembers the way Tyler had tensed when the needle first pierced his skin, and how his hands had clenched into fists at his sides and a part of Josh thought that they should have done this alone. He glanced up at Tyler again, and his eyes were waiting for Josh's, tense, brows furrowed through the pain. Deep red blood mixed with the black ink and he swabbed it away with a towel. He was shedding Tyler's blood, he realized with a strange reverence. Privately, he swore to himself that this would be the only time he'd ever hurt Tyler.

Tyler went next, and Josh took his place on the seat. He aimed lower than where Josh had placed his, and perhaps that said something about them, how they felt about each other. Tyler was his, and Josh could live with this and remember it without fanfare. But maybe Tyler wanted everyone to know. So close to his knee, it would be visible with shorts and distressed jeans. Josh could feel the letters burning as Tyler worked, and the feeling of the vibrating needle against his tissue reverberated through his entire skeleton.

Josh stared at the top of Tyler's head as he inscribed his name on him and resisted the urge to place his hand on his hair and stroke it.

* * *

According to everyone, the names didntd hurt when they appeared. Their tattoos did, however, and Josh limped and took care of the redness and felt the pain with pride.  

They weren't living out of a van anymore and didn't need to share a mattress. They still did it anyways, and they put their legs together and let their arms tangle and their faces remain inches apart, because that was what made Josh safe and it was what made Tyler safe.

This was good. This was perfect. Maybe if he could spend a day as someone who had a name on their chest, he'd come back to this life feeling underwhelmed by what he and Tyler had made and done together, because maybe he was missing something fundamental. But maybe he wasn't. He probably wasn't. If anyone wanted to ask where his name was, he'd point to the one on his leg. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic! Feedback is appreciated!


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